by Cherry Adair
Chapter Four
HILARY GLANCED AT JUAN FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME AS he snoozed in the limo. When he’d touched her mouth back at the hotel, she’d felt her temperature shoot through the roof. Sure, he was attractive, but she hadn’t thought he could make her feel anything sexual. Especially in this situation.
She shook her head. It must have been some kind of weird combination of adrenaline and lack of sleep. Speaking of sleep, how could he possibly sleep at a time like this? She looked at the book he’d bought for her at their last pit stop, to keep her entertained, he’d told her. She sighed.
He’d grown irritated with her questions after the first thirty minutes of the drive and ordered her to rest the same way she suspected he would talk to a child. When she still couldn’t sit still, he’d given her super glue to repair the heel on one of the red shoes Jensen had collected from the parking lot.
The driver watched her with a wary eye. One wary eye, she thought with a sliver of guilt. His other eye was already swollen shut.
Hilary couldn’t stand the suspense. The drive was taking entirely too long. She wanted to find Christine and make sure she was safe. She didn’t know how she could look at herself in the mirror if it turned out that Christine was hurt. Or worse.
A lump of dread formed in her throat and she forced herself to swallow. She had to stay positive and focused.
“You need to rest while you have the opportunity,” Juan said with his eyes still closed.
“I can’t possibly rest until we find Christine,” she said. “I don’t see how you can.”
“It would be easier if you would stop moving and sighing,” he said, opening his eyes to slits. “The idea is to rest while you can so you won’t be tired when you need all your energy.”
She sighed and bit her lip. “That’s an excellent theory. I just can’t do it.”
He closed his eyes. “You haven’t told me why you’re the only one chasing after Christine. If you two have all these sorority sisters, then why aren’t they going after her, too? Or her parents?”
“I’m not as active in a lot of the sorority activities because I graduated a few years ago, so I serve as more of an adviser and leave the door open for any of the girls to come to me in case of emergency.”
“Mother hen,” he said.
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t have enough time to parent this semester.”
“So why aren’t her parents doing anything?”
“Her mother is dead and her father is in absentia. She was on the verge of being kicked out of the sorority because one of her scholarships was discontinued. The foundation stopped giving scholarships.”
“Again, what does this have to do with you?”
“She called me several times before she got involved with the traffickers, but I was busy grading papers. I’m a teaching assistant for one of the professors. When she told me about the position she was considering, it didn’t sound on the up and up. I had a rushed conversation with her and just told her not to take it.”
“She didn’t listen,” he said.
“Right, she didn’t. And if I’d spent more time talking with her or invited her over for coffee or dinner, then I probably could have prevented this whole disaster.”
“Because your words have magical powers, you can convince a headstrong underclasswoman to do the right thing.”
She shot him a sharp look. “I don’t appreciate the sarcasm.”
He shrugged. “I’m just telling the truth. If Christine was determined to go, then you couldn’t have stopped her.”
“I think I could have persuaded her,” Hilary said.
“You tried. You did your part. She made her own bad choice.”
“So she’s going to have to die because of it?” She shook her head. “Haven’t you ever made a bad choice? Have you ever made a bad choice and you didn’t have to bear the consequences? When you deserved to have something horrible happen, but it didn’t?”
He paused and met her gaze. “Maybe, but I’ve had to deal with plenty of bad consequences for stupid decisions.”
She felt guilt squeeze her throat again. “It’s just not fair,” she said. “Put me in Christine’s place. First, I have two parents who love me almost to the point of smothering me. The only reason they wouldn’t help me with Christine is because they didn’t want me involved in anything that could endanger me.”
“So the reason you ran to the opposite side of the country is because it was the only way you could politely get them to leave you alone,” he said.
She frowned at him. He was dead on, but her parents had been so supportive that she couldn’t admit it. “I’ve never had to think twice about how my education would be financed.”
“But you did earn scholarships?” he added.
“Yes.” She met his gaze and felt an odd flip in her belly at how much he seemed to know about her. “Just how much did my parents tell you about me?”
His lips twitched. “You mean did the report tell me that you weighed seven pounds and eight ounces at birth and were balder than a bald eagle until you turned two?”
She groaned. “They didn’t have to go back all the way to my birth.”
“Before that,” he said. “According to the report, it took your parents nine years and seven months to conceive you.”
She covered her face, feeling the weight of all her parents’ dreams settle on her shoulders. “I’ve heard that once or twice,” she said, unable to hide her frustration. The truth was she’d heard about her miracle conception at least a hundred times.
“Tough being a princess?” he asked with more gentleness than she would have expected.
“There are worse things.”
“Ah, the guilt factor returns.”
“I do have a lot to be thankful for, although if my father had just let me borrow the money to find Christine, that would have helped. It’s one of the rare times he has turned me down.”
“He didn’t want his angel getting her hands dirty.”
She glanced down at her Santa suit and smiled grimly. “If he could only see his little princess now.”
Hours later, after Juan withdrew a large amount of cash from a bank and Jensen finished the drive to the estate, Hilary sat on the edge of her seat waiting for him to bring Christine out of the house. She whispered a thousand prayers that Christine would be at the estate, hoping the international language of money would make Slavinsky produce her. She crossed her fingers and would have waved a magic wand if she’d had one. She begged Jensen to let her outside the car to expend some of her excess energy. He refused.
No surprise, she thought. He wasn’t going to forgive her anytime soon for what she’d done to him with that stiletto heel.
Her gaze glued to the front door, she finally saw it open. Her heart jumped in her chest. Please, please, please . . .
Juan appeared and shook hands with Harris and walked down the steps. Christine was nowhere in sight.
Her heart sank as quickly as it had jumped.
Hilary stared at the door, willing it to open again. Her mind provided a dozen possibilities. She almost forgot her suitcase. She was in the bathroom. She needed a bottle of water. Anything, she thought desperately, anything.
Juan stepped inside the car and shook his head. “Sorry, she wasn’t part of the chick parade. Jensen, head toward El Paso.”
Hilary searched his face. “Nothing? Nothing at all?”
Juan tugged his tie loose and raked his hand through his hair. “Not for Slavinsky’s lack of trying. He brought me eight girls. Count them. Eight. And I had to find something wrong with all of them.
“I don’t think any of them were a day over twenty,” he added.
Through her own desperation, she caught a flash of Juan’s humanity. “You wanted to bring them all with you?”
He glanced outside the window. “They looked like little girls scared to death but trying to find a way out.”
“They probably sensed they could be safe with you,�
�� she said. “I did.”
He met her gaze. “Really? Why is that?”
“You had a sense of humor.”
He leaned toward her. “Plenty of serial killers have a sense of humor.”
“You gave the impression of being reasonable, negotiable,” she said, and saw him lift an eyebrow of disbelief. “Okay, you could have been a charming monster, but I had to follow my instincts. The thing that bothered me is that you looked stronger than I was expecting. I was hoping for someone much older with a paunch.”
“Who, in theory, you could outrun,” he said.
“Right,” she said, pleased that he could see her logic.
“If not for the old fat guy’s young bodyguards,” he added.
“I was hoping I would be able to outsmart them.”
“Right, Wonder Woman.” He rubbed his face. “Okay. Both of us need to get sleep now.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the location where they send candidates who need extra training,” he said.
Her stomach twisted. “Is that where you think Christine is?”
“It’s our best lead,” he said. “He was reluctant for me to join you for the training, but I insisted and since he expects me to refer clients, he was willing to bend the rules. But I’m only taking you inside as a last resort.”
“Why?”
“This could be rough. These people will threaten your parents’ lives. They’ll threaten to hurt you and kill you. Sometimes they hurt women, drug them. The entire goal is to demean you and crush your spirit so that you’ll do whatever is asked with no protest.”
She shuddered at the thought of what Christine might be experiencing. “I wish I could have found her sooner. I feel like every second that passes she could be in more danger than ever.”
Juan didn’t deny it. “If she’s still in the country,” he said. “The reason I’m telling you this is because if you go in there with me, you need to be prepared for what you’ll see. The traffickers aren’t concerned with human rights, let alone equal rights.”
“You’re afraid I can’t handle it,” she said.
“This won’t be your average femi-nazi seminar,” he said.
“Just because I have a concentration in women’s studies doesn’t mean I can’t put what I’ve learned aside temporarily for the sake of getting Christine.” She paused. “I’m tougher than I look.”
He looked at her in disbelief. “Yeah. Well, if things go right, I’ll get the information and you won’t see the inside of the house.” He leaned back against the seat. “Go to sleep.”
Hours later, Jensen pulled up to another locked gate and pushed an intercom button.
“Señora Catalina’s weight reduction spa,” a woman’s friendly voice said. “May I help you?”
“Juan Castillo,” Jenson said.
“I will send an escort for you.”
Moments later, a large man strode toward them. He extended his hand through the gate. “Identification.”
Assessing the large man, Rick got out of the limo, walked to the gate and showed his ID. “I’d like to bring the limo to the house, but I’d like to talk to Señora Catalina before I bring in—” He paused. “My mistress.”
He endured the patting down and waited as the guard insisted on patting down Jensen. The guard motioned for Hilary, and Rick drew the line. “I don’t let other men handle my merchandise.”
The guard hesitated. “Tell her to stand outside the car and turn around slowly.”
With a blank face, Hilary did as instructed, but Rick could practically hear her feminist instincts screaming at top volume.
The guard checked out the limo, then gave a nod. “You may enter. Just follow the drive,” he said and opened the gate with a remote device.
Rick returned to the limo. “Pretty sophisticated for a fat farm.”
“If it was really a fat farm, wouldn’t the guard be trimmer?” Hilary asked with a charming but insubordinate smile as she met his gaze.
He felt a twist of amusement. “Keep your sense of humor hidden if you come in the house.”
“Yes sir,” she said with a mock salute. “Bring back the goods.”
“I’ll do what I can,” he said as Jensen pulled up in front of a two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch. With rocking chairs and little tables on the front porch, the house appeared homey and welcoming.
Rick narrowed his eyes at the deceptive sight. He wondered if anyone ever sat in those rocking chairs. He climbed the steps and pushed the doorbell. A woman dressed in a white uniform answered the door.
“Mr. Castillo? Please come this way,” she said when he nodded, and led him down a hallway to an office. “Señora Catalina will be with you in just a few minutes.”
Rick stood instead of sitting and glanced around the room, noting the spare furnishings. Probably a result of needing to pick up and move quickly and offer no identifying characteristics to nosey, talkative visitors.
The door opened and a beautiful but severe-looking woman with dark hair and dark eyes entered. She wore a black dress that faithfully molded to her amazing curves. “Good morning, Mr. Castillo. I’m Señora Catalina.”
“Good morning, Señora Catalina. Thank you for fitting me into your schedule.”
She lifted her lips in a smile, but her eyes remained cold. “We try to make sure our clients are pleased. It’s very unusual, however, for the client to remain here during extra training. I discourage it.”
“I understand, but it would be more efficient for me to learn some of your techniques so there will be consistency.” He lifted his hand. “This is a lovely home and so quiet. Perhaps you’re not training during the holidays. I apologize if I interrupted your plans.”
“I’m training other candidates. We have soundproof walls to eliminate any distracting noise. Now, if you’ll tell me what you would like to accomplish with your candidate.”
“I would like her to do what I tell her to do, but she startles easily, so I think she may require a gentle touch.”
Señora Catalina nodded.
“I notice there’s no art on the walls,” he said in a conversational manner. “Did you just move in?”
“This is a transitional facility,” she said. “We’re looking for something better suited to our needs.”
“So you’ll be moving soon?”
She shrugged. “At one point or another. You may bring your new employee in for training now.”
“I’d like to see the training room first,” he said.
She paused as if she were going to refuse him, then sighed. “If you must. Come this way.”
She led the way down the hall to the back of the house to a room empty except for four chairs, two chests, and a steel contraption with chains that he was certain was used for something to do with S&M.
“This is our beginner room,” she said. “We have another room for candidates who are having an especially difficult time.”
“Do you find the need to conduct advanced training on many of your candidates?” he asked.
“It depends,” she said, then smiled again. “But I have a one hundred percent success rate.”
“Everyone’s a satisfied customer?” he said, noting the coldness in her eyes again.
“Satisfied when they leave,” she said, as if she were touting the company line.
He nodded. “Do you ever get involved in transactions for candidates at this location?”
Rick felt her studying him and remained silent.
“Sometimes,” she said. “You seem very interested in the way we conduct business.”
“Actually, I was hoping to make another purchase,” he said. “But I have very specific qualifications. I asked Mr. Harris to help me, but he didn’t have exactly what I wanted. I wondered if you might.”
“Tell me the qualifications,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Rick described Christine without giving her name and Señora Catalina pursed her lips. “We’ll see,” she said
. “In the meantime, bring your employee so we can get to work.”
Hilary watched Juan walk down the steps wearing an irritated expression. He opened the door to the limo. “Showtime,” he said to Hilary and extended his hand to help her out of the car.
“Does this mean we don’t have any information yet?”
“That’s what it means.” He met her gaze and lowered his head to just a breath from hers. “Say ‘yes, ma’am,’ and do exactly what she says to do. Don’t try anything heroic. If you do, I’ll have to get you out of there and we’ll have zero chance of finding Christine. Understand?”
She blinked at his hard, curt voice. “Sure.”
“That’s ‘yes, sir,’ darlin’,” he corrected with a grin that didn’t meet his eyes.
Hilary resisted the urge to shiver. “Yes, sir.”
“Okay, let’s go,” he said and escorted her up the steps.
The woman in white appeared at the door and led them down the hall to the classroom. Hilary tried to take in every nuance of her surroundings. She craned to hear any noises and noticed all the closed doors. So many closed doors, she thought, and caught sight of the staircase in the back of the house. She wondered if Christine might be upstairs.
The woman in white knocked softly on a door.
“You may come in,” another woman said.
The door was opened and Hilary stared at the hard but beautiful woman who stood so straight she wondered if the woman had a titanium rod in her spine.
“Greetings, Mr. Castillo,” the woman said.
“Señora Catalina,” Juan said.
Automatically extending her hand, Hilary dipped her head. “Hello, I’m Hilary Winfree.”
Señora Catalina skimmed her hand with an expression of disgust. “I will call you Señorita. In the future, you will allow Mr. Castillo to introduce you. Otherwise you are to remain silent. Understood?”
Disconcerted, Hilary nodded. “Yes,” she said, then catching Juan’s gaze, she added, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Then let us practice again. Go out of the room and enter again,” she said.
Hilary turned around and left the room. Juan stood in front of her. The door opened.
“Greetings, Mr. Castillo. We’re honored by your presence. We understand you’ve been hard at work on plans for the economic growth of your country. Please tell us more about your projects.”
